Mentalist Episode Tag: Green Light, 7x6
by Donnamour1969
Summary: Lisbon has one more present for Jane to open. Rated M for Jisbon sexy times and adult language. Spoilers, 7x6.


A/N: I wasn't planning on writing a tag for this episode, mainly because it wasn't my favorite of the season, and I felt uninspired and a bit disappointed (save for the very last scene). Then a couple of my Twitter friends, (namely Nerwen Aldarion and SteeleSimz) convinced me that I should. So here it is, picking up from right after the second Jisbon kiss of the episode, and turning decidedly M from my hopeful desire to see more passion between them. I hope you enjoy it.

PS: Any similarities to starry19's tag (or anyone else's) are purely coincidental. Great minds, etcetera, etcetera, lol.

**Episode Tag, "Green Light," 7x6**

"That's only part of your present, you know," said Lisbon, leaning back from Jane's second chaste smooch of gratitude for the cup. She picked up her glass of champagne and gave him the most suggestive look she could muster.

Jane eyes widened a little at the promise there, and Lisbon felt a secret thrill for the second time that evening—she actually possessed the power to surprise him.

"Oh, really?" he asked, his attempt at nonchalance completely ruined by the endearing break in his voice. He cleared his throat, then took a drink himself. "What do you propose, Agent Lisbon?"

She'd been learning a lot from him lately, about how to manipulate people, about how to pretend to read minds. Maybe it was about time the student challenged the master. Still, her heart pounded at what she was about to say, what she was about to do.

"I'd like you to think of something you would like to uh, do with me, something that we've never done before. Maybe you were afraid to ask, afraid I might be…put off or uninterested…"

She watched his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed hard, felt her heart picking up speed in response to the slight flush upon his high cheekbones. Was it the wine, or her suggestion that was causing it?

"There's nothing I could possibly wish for that you don't already give me," he said softly.

She stared deeply into his eyes a moment, evaluating, reading him.

"Liar," she said softly.

"Teresa—" he began, but she held up a hand, feeling a sudden surge of confidence.

"I'm not fragile," she told him. "You aren't going to hurt me, or lose me. You have to stop…_denying_ yourself."

She saw the brief flicker of acknowledgement in his expression, but he quickly hid it from her.

_So, it was back to keeping secrets._

She instinctively knew it was true, what she'd deduced about him. From the beginning of their sexual relationship, he had at times been almost tentative with her. Gentle, undemanding. He worshiped her with his body, gave her pleasure she had never known. Occasionally she would beg him to speed up or go harder, to take her with abandon, and sometimes he would comply—well eventually, when she was nearly crazy with desire. Mostly though, he would whisper for her to be patient, as if he knew what was best for her.

Of course, she came every time. All she need do was look down and see his blonde head between her thighs and that was enough to send her over the edge. It was still so surreal to her, having him in bed with her, having him inside of her-the fulfillment of twelve years of fantasizing. So just being that close and intimate with him was arousing in itself. When he touched her, no matter how firmly or gently, she was putty in his hands. Hell, a naked, smiling Jane could get her off.

So why was there still something missing?

She'd mulled this over and over in her mind, and kept arriving at one conclusion.

He was holding himself back.

She had no doubt of his desire for her, knew he was excited by their encounters. He would let her do with him as she wished, let her use her mouth and her hands in all the ways she instinctively knew would make him feel good. But if she were honest with herself, she was holding back too.

It was completely unlike her to be shy in bed, not to ask for what she really wanted. She kept telling herself it was enough that they were together, that she climaxed and he did too. That she felt his love in every touch and light caress, that they were closer emotionally and physically than she'd ever dreamed they'd be.

But she found that after a few months of being a couple, she wanted more. She selfishly wanted _all _of him. She was finally to the point where she wasn't afraid he would leave her, that they had bonded deeply enough that she had no doubt of his love and commitment, as open-ended as he made it out to be. But perhaps he didn't want to make plans, not because _he_ might leave, but because he was afraid he'd lose her.

And so he'd kept a small part of his heart and mind safely locked away as a means of self-preservation.

He'd admitted he was scared, that he wanted out of the FBI. Well, she for one couldn't live in fear like that.

"What am I denying myself of," asked Jane, idly tracing the faint cracks where she'd painstakingly glued the broken shards back together.

She felt her cheeks turn pink, but she pushed on anyway. "You don't allow yourself to take all the…the pleasure that you're capable of."

He smirked a little. She wasn't surprised he was going to offer her a denial. "It's pretty hard for a man to fake it, Teresa."

"I didn't say your were faking." She sighed in momentary frustration. She paused, briefly closing her eyes to regroup and try find the words that she'd rehearsed in her mind all day. "When we make love, you're not putting your whole…heart into it. A woman can sense that, you know, even when she's with a lover as gifted as you are."

He raised skeptical eyebrows. "You're saying you're not satisfied?"

"Yes, of course I am satisfied. You _know_ I am. But I took this step with you with the hope that you would break down your walls completely in time, at least with me. And sure, we've come a long way, but you need to realize something about me, Jane. I can be just as stubborn and driven as you when it comes to getting what I want."

He seemed a little surprised at her determination, though she saw the glint of humor there mixed in with his admiration.

She reached across the table to take his hand, her voice softening. "What I'm trying to say is, I want _all_ of you. Every part. And I'm not going to give up on you until you give it to me."

She brought his hand to her mouth, kissed the warm knuckles beneath her lips. He watched her every move intently, trying and failing at first to form a coherent reply.

"And I very much want to. But you're right," he admitted. "I _have_ been holding out on you, but it wasn't to hurt you or deprive you—"

"I know that—it was to deprive _yourself_, like I said. But I want an equal give and take, Jane, in every aspect of our relationship."

"How very twenty-first century of you," he said with a small smile of gently irony.

"Yes," she said, smiling a little in return. "Time for you to catch up."

Squeezing her hand, he lapsed into a brief silence, considering. He opened his mouth once as if to say something, changed his mind, then leaned closer to her across the table, a newly determined glint in his own eyes.

"I'm willing to give it a try, if you're willing to be patient with me."

Her eyes filled with love and sensual anticipation. She stood, still holding tightly to his hand.

"Let's go inside," she whispered, nodding toward the Airstream. She led him up the steps into the silver motor home, and he shut the door behind them. She flipped off all the bright lights save for the small light over his bed, which was still folded out from its stowaway position as a padded bench.

"Sit," she instructed, heart pounding almost painfully within her breast. She gave him a little push and he sat heavily on the bed with a grin. She felt amped up on par with how she felt when she was about to storm a suspect's house, but she was excited too, already turned on by what she had planned for him.

She took off her blazer jacket.

"Let me unwrap your present for you," she said with what she hoped was a sexy wink.

He chuckled, then sat back more comfortably on the narrow bed to enjoy the show.

"Please, proceed," he said, his eyes warming in anticipation.

She untucked her white blouse from her slacks, then turned her back to him as her fingers moved up to nervously release her buttons. She slipped the garment off her shoulders in what she hoped were slow, sensual movements, revealing her well-toned back and the white straps of her bra.

"By the way," she said, "no need to tell me what you wished for, when you thought of what we might do together."

"Oh?"

"I think I have a pretty good idea. Let me know later if I'm right."

"So far, so good," he said, his voice very encouraging.

She paused, looking over her shoulder at him, pleased when she saw he was staring at her back in appreciation. Her hands lifted to her ponytail, and she slid the holder from her smooth, straightened locks, then shook out her hair, enjoying the silky feel of it on her bare shoulders.

"Hmm," he hummed under his breath. "Nice."

She turned to face him, delighting in how is eyes widened at the expensive new push-up bra she'd bought for the occasion. It was satiny and pretty, far from her usual practical cotton undergarments, and it made her cleavage look practically cavernous.

"_Very _nice," he said. Then added: "Wow."

Her hands went to the fastening at her waist and she stared straight into his eyes as she toyed with her zipper, slowly lowering it. She made a show of shimmying her hips a little before letting the pants fall to her feet. Beneath her slacks she'd donned stiletto boots that came to her knees. She stood before him now, wearing only a scrap of a thong, the sexy matching bra, and those dangerous black boots.

She heart his indrawn breath as she stepped out of her pants and kicked them aside.

"Teresa," he whispered. He reached for her but she backed just out of his reach.

"Not yet," she said, and she hopped upon the built-in table, spreading her legs wide in a decidedly unladylike manner.

His eyes travelled hotly from her luminous green eyes to the tips of her boots, pausing to admire her gently sloping curves, then to stare at her panties in such a way that had her shivering with desire.

Lisbon cupped her breasts through her bra and his eyes immediately fastened there, his mouth dropping open slightly as he stared, captivated. She tantalized them both for a moment, her thumbs circling her firm nipples encased within the white satin. She could already hear his quickened breathing, even over her own. With greater confidence, she reached around to unhook her bra, allowing him an eyeful of her enhanced cleavage before releasing her breasts to the warm air within the trailer. She let the garment fall from her fingers to the floor. Her hands were cool with nervousness, and she gasped as she touched her bare skin, continuing her ministrations before her enraptured audience.

She pinched and pulled gently at her hardened peaks, moaning quietly at the sensation, at the added titillation of having him watch her touch herself so intimately. She'd never done this in front of a man before, and she found, much to her surprise, that it was just as much of a turn-on for her.

She smiled knowingly when she noted how Jane crossed his legs over the bulge in his trousers, and thus encouraged, she slid her right hand tantalizingly down her muscled stomach to slip inside her panties. She felt the slick wetness that had gathered there, and she parted her sensitive flesh before lightly tapping the engorged bud with her fingertip, her other hand continuing to tug at her breast. She promptly moaned at the heightened sensations.

She allowed her head to fall back, exposing her porcelain throat while she pleasured herself, her arousal building higher within her. She became so focused on her impending climax that for a moment, she forgot he was there, forgot he was watching her. She squeezed her eyes tightly closed, her entire body tensing, mindless of her quiet cries filling the Airstream.

She hadn't heard Jane move, but suddenly his hand covered hers inside her panties, his lips fastening on her left breast. She shuddered into her release, but he continued to suckle her, drawing out another contraction, another hoarse cry.

Spent, she leaned her head forward to rest on his shoulder, her labored breathing rasping in his ear.

He didn't give her much time to recover. His hands came up to rest on either of her flushed cheeks and he lifted her head so he could take her lips in a searing kiss. His tongue slid deeply into her mouth as he stood between her legs, and she felt the hardness in his pants rubbing against her thigh.

After a moment, he pulled back to look at her, his eyes feverish with desire.

"You are a temptress," he said.

She gave him a bleary smile. "Good."

Her hands fell to the front of his pants, and she felt how his body strained against his zipper. She caressed him and his jaw tightened in a grimace resembling pain. Jane, however, was uncharacteristically impatient. He brushed aside her teasing hands to quickly unfasten his belt buckle, making short work of the button and zipper as well. His hot hands found the thin waistband of her panties, and he slipped them over her hips, pulling the tiny garment over her thighs and past her shiny boots. He took a moment to lower his boxer briefs, the underwear difficult to pull off over his straining erection. He kissed her then, at the same time sliding her closer to the edge of the table. It was the perfect height for what he had in mind, and she braced her hands upon his shoulders, still covered by the slightly padded material of his suit coat.

Grasping her buttocks, he plunged forward, sheathing himself to the hilt.

"Damn," he breathed shakily, and she was reduced to an incoherent moan of welcome.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he could feel the leather of her boots against his bare ass. He pulled out almost completely, then plunged back inside of her slick tightness. She encouraged his return home by pushing once more on his buttocks.

Her movements elicited a frenzy of desire, and he pounded into her over and over again. Lisbon sensed the moment he let go completely, the moment he gave himself totally to his passion, without fear of either hurting her, without what seemed to be any conscious thought at all. She found his eyes in the dim light, saw a wildness there she had never seen before. He certainly wasn't denying himself now. She reveled in the way the table shook beneath her, the vague fear it might collapse with each driving thrust only adding to the excitement. She would try her best not to let him feel guilty later for the bruises she would surely have from his fingers digging sharply into her buttocks.

Another orgasm ripped through her body right before he came deep inside of her, his roar of release nearly unrecognizable to her.

"Holy fuck," he said after a moment, and she grinned, never having heard him swear so basely.

She drew his trembling body to hers, slipping her arms inside his jacket to feel his dress shirt, drenched with sweat. He had been so out of control he hadn't bothered to remove all of his clothes. He leaned against her, his hands resting on the table, panting heavily.

"I feel like it's _my_ birthday," she said, when she was capable of speech. He raised his head from her embrace and grinned sheepishly.

"Don't you dare apologize," she warned, and she helped him slip his suit jacket off his shoulders, then down his arms to fall to the floor.

"I wasn't going to do that. On the contrary, I was going to inquire if you were still in one piece."

Her chuckle was quietly sensual. "Just barely, though you might want to tighten up the screws in this table later."

He awkwardly disengaged from her amid more quavering laughter, and he finished undressing, stepping out of the trousers and underwear pooled at his ankles. At last, he removed his damply wrinkled shirt with shaking fingers.

They found their way to the bed, and she snuggled against him on top of the covers, both of them still pleasantly overheated.

"What the hell _was_ that, Teresa," he asked in wonder. "I haven't been that wound up since I was a teenager."

He could feel her smile widen. "You, my love, like to watch."

A surprised bark of laughter rumbled through his chest. "You make me sound like a pervert."

She moved her head to look up at him. "Not at all. I only mean you are an observer, a visual learner. I only gave you something…_interesting_ to look at."

He kissed her forehead. "You certainly did."

"I was right then, wasn't I?" she said smugly.

"Indeed. You are a very wise woman. I'll make a mentalist of you yet."

She frowned in mock annoyance. "No way are _you_ taking credit for this. I figured you out all on my own, thank you very much. Just smile and say, _thank you, Lisbon_."

He paused a beat, and his voice became serious. "Thank you, Lisbon. For my old teacup, good as new. For the _other, _even more thoughtful birthday present," he said, smiling a little. "And thank you for never giving up on me, even when you've had every right and opportunity. But mostly…thank you for loving me."

"I've forgotten how to live any other way," she whispered, her eyes watering with emotion. "Your happiness is my happiness, which means your triumphs and troubles are mine too. So keep giving me everything, Patrick, no holding back anymore, and we can split the burdens, and share in…the pleasures."

She climbed on top of his warm body, felt the quickening of her desire lighting her from within.

"I promise," he said, and she knew he meant it, for Patrick Jane was not one to make promises lightly.

He kissed her to seal the deal, his body responding instinctively to the unspoken call from hers.

"I have no idea how you're going to top this for next year's birthday," he said, grinning a challenge. She shook her head at him.

"Haven't you learned yet not to underestimate me?"

"Hmm," he said. "I guess you'll have to keep surprising me until I do."

She suddenly pinned his hands above him, undulating her hips against him in a way that made him gasp aloud.

"It would be my pleasure," she said, and she lowered her smiling mouth to his.

**THE END**

**A/N: Maybe someday in the near future, my own birthday wish for Jisbon will come true. It sure would be nice…Thanks for reading.**


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